
Hi, I’m Sam. But in this space, I’m probably better known as the woman behind Dope Soul Village—a little business that’s bigger than any of us. Before we get into the nitty-gritty of what brought me here, let’s talk about who I am.
I grew up in a world where you learned real quick that if you didn’t have thick skin, you’d get trampled. My dad was in the army, and I was an army kid—moving, shifting, adapting, and dealing with all that comes with a military life. That’s a whole world in itself. But let’s be real. The army wasn’t the hardest part. No, that honour goes to my mother. A narcissist with a master’s degree in emotional abuse. You know the type: everything is your fault, nothing is ever good enough, and somehow, you’re always to blame for someone else’s failures.
So, from a young age, I had a front-row seat to what domestic violence can do to someone. It wasn’t always physical violence, but the mental and emotional toll? You could feel that in every word, every glance, every “I’m fine” that was anything but fine. It stays with you. You carry it in your bones, in your soul, and it shapes how you see the world.
And then there’s the ADHD. Oh, and the undiagnosed autism. You might be wondering how I manage all that.
The truth is, sometimes I don’t. It’s like having a superpower and a kryptonite all in one package. It means I can hyper-focus for hours (if I’m passionate about something) and completely forget to eat or drink.
But it also means I can’t ignore injustice—especially when it’s done to me or, heaven help you, to my family. When I see wrong being done, whether to myself or anyone close to me, I’m on it faster than you can blink. It’s like a switch flips, and boom—I’m done with you.
The kind of done where you might not even realise it until it’s too late. People who’ve crossed me know exactly what I mean. The cut-off is swift and final. I don’t have time for nonsense, especially when it involves mistreatment.
Which leads me to Dope Soul Village. This wasn’t just some cute idea that came out of nowhere. It was born out of trauma.
Out of a need for something real, something raw.
The Ministry of Defence (MoD) taught me that real life is never as clean-cut as it seems. I know that the system is flawed, and trust me, I’ve seen the ugly side up close.
After everything I went through with them, and with Chloe Masters (let’s not even get started), I realised that the systems we rely on to protect us aren’t always going to have our backs.
And that’s a hard pill to swallow when you’ve been let down by the very people who are supposed to support you.
Now, I don’t go around preaching bitterness, but I won’t stand by while people like me—people who have been mistreated—are swept under the rug.
Dope Soul Village was built to offer a safe space, a community that doesn’t judge but supports. A place where women can come together, raise their voices, and laugh in the face of adversity, even when it feels like the world is trying to swallow us whole. I’m creating this place for women like me, women who’ve been knocked down by life, and need a reminder that they’re more than the sum of their scars.
But let’s talk about my kids for a minute. They’re the fire that keeps me going. The reason I push through even when everything feels like it’s too much. I’m a mum to three kids—two of whom have ADHD and autism, just like me. They’re my heart and soul, and everything I do, I do for them. They remind me every day why I fight so hard to create a better world, not just for us, but for everyone who feels overlooked or misunderstood.
I refuse to let this world swallow them up, no matter how difficult it may seem. If anyone tries to get in their way, they’ll be met with the same ferocity I’ve shown when I’ve cut people off for good. It’s not a threat; it’s just reality. I’m a mama bear, and I’ll protect my cubs, my village, and my values with everything I’ve got.
In short, I’m Sam. A mother. A woman with a deep sense of justice, a load of baggage I’m learning to unpack, and a whole lot of love for my community. I might be flawed—ADHD and undiagnosed autism and all—but I refuse to let that define me. I’ve been through too much to not stand up for what’s right, whether it’s in my personal life or in my business. And I will keep fighting for my kids, for other women, and for a better future where we can all be our unapologetic selves.
So, welcome to my world. It’s messy, real, and a little sarcastic, but it’s mine.